But she never did.
XII
Two months passed.
Erna Vitek was still living with Jimmy Allen. There was, however, less and less likelihood that they would ever marry. In fact, the most probable issue to their affair was that they would separate again, in the near future and this time for good.
Erna was tired of Jimmy. For some weeks past, her restless nature had been craving some one else, or better still, some other mode of living, her present one having reached a state of unbearable monotony. She recovered from her experience with Eric Nielsen only after several weeks of struggle. Even such a fine tonic as that supplied her so freely by her resource of blood found the healing of her wound no ordinary matter, but she had recovered, except for an occasional memory. Her battle with her craving for Nielsen did not assist her attachment for Jimmy; on the contrary, the latter degenerated by contrast. And Jimmy, himself, was very much to blame as well. He had changed toward her.
It is no doubt true that possession often breeds boredom, and boredom, carelessness. Erna, before possession and after possession, was not the same individual, and Jimmy treated her accordingly. He was no longer an anxious desire-maddened suitor.
Furthermore, he was softening physically. He continued training for his schedule of fistic contests and carried out that schedule; he defeated Young Walcott, the man from Chicago and another, but lately, had fought two very poor draws, in the latter of which he, himself, was on the point of being knocked out. His manager, the astute Jerry Nolan, was losing patience with him. He bluntly attributed his protégé’s decline to the fact that he was “livin’ with a woman. A man’s got to cut out drink if he wants to succeed as a athlete, but he’s got to be sure to cut out women. They sucks his blood an’ strength.”
Jimmy did not agree with this sentiment. He continued to live with Erna. What is more, he had threatened to move out of the Nolan apartment and “to throw up the sponge”—quit the prize-ring—if his manager persisted in arguing along these lines. Although Nolan submitted, he found other grounds upon which to pick quarrels with Jimmy. The truth is, the young manager was ambitious, and Jimmy’s ability to climb the pugilistic ladder reflected credit upon him. He had always felt and expressed his faith in his protégé and prophesied that he would be “mixin’ it with the top notchers” not far hence, a prophecy Jimmy substantiated by defeating “the Kid,” Young Walcott and the westerner so decisively. But he was in danger now, as his recent battles and his late mutiny testified. Should Jimmy fall from grace a second time, it would be irrevocably. Therefore, Nolan was using eloquence, persuasion, threats, anything, to save him.
Many of their quarrels took place in Erna’s presence. After a while, Jimmy, much to her growing distaste, formed the habit of bringing Nolan and “some o’ the boys” to the flat. Custom gradually trained them to believe that she was nothing more than part of the furniture, and they accepted her attentions, due them as Jimmy’s guests, just so. They stayed well on into the night, amused themselves, played pranks, broke dishes, quarrelled, made up—and came again. And more and more, they looked upon Erna with contempt. On her side, she hated and despised them.
During the day, Jimmy was usually absent, training at the Nolan headquarters in Fordham. Erna saw him for a moment in the morning, when she prepared his breakfast, and at evening, when she prepared his supper, not to see him again, as a rule, until fairly late at night, except when he brought “the boys.” To be sure, she slept with him and—well, she hated that too. It made her feel herself some dirty, inferior animal.